The World of American Drama: From the Los Angeles Patrol

Chapter 1447 Turtle in the Urn
"What a lousy legendary agent. He's just a bootlicker who can only rely on women to get promoted and make money."

While spewing his indignant words, Craig Bogle put away the eavesdropping device, carefully lifted the wig on his head, and scratched his itchy scalp hard.

"I couldn't agree more with you, Craig, look at that supercar he drives, we worked for the FBI for 20 years and what did we get in the end?
With a senior agent title and not enough in the bank to buy four tires, retiring early from the agency was the best decision I ever made."

Although Leonard Pitt, who is driving, has a slightly high hairline and some gray hair on his temples, he is much better than Craig Bogle, who has no hair at all and can only rely on a wig to cover it up.

"I don't understand what that bitch Dana Moger saw in this pretty boy. Just because he complained a little, she sent us all back to Washington to work in an office. Is the news true?"

"What news?" Leonard Pitt showed an interested expression.

Craig Bogle, who was adjusting his wig in front of a small mirror, smiled wickedly, "It is said that the old woman kicked David Rossi and slept with his disciple instead."

The two wretched old men burst into laughter, and the car was filled with a happy atmosphere for a while.

At the same time, in the Audi R20 sports car less than 8 meters in front of the N-hand Lavida where the two were, Taylor, who was sitting in the passenger seat, was staring at the rearview mirror with a nervous expression on his face.

“Is someone really following us?”

"Relax, Taylor. The people following us are professionals. If you continue to act so nervous when you get to the restaurant, people will notice that something is wrong."

Jack frowned, feeling that the tracking skills displayed by the tail behind him just now were somewhat familiar.

"Then what should I do?" Taylor's state at this moment was more excited than nervous. The double stimulation brought by the impending danger and the sense of security of being protected by someone she trusted made her legs rub together unconsciously.

"Just like usual, isn't next the candlelight dinner you've been looking forward to?" Jack stopped the car, rolled down the window and declined the parking attendant's attentive offer to open the door.

After giving the other party two $10 tips, the parking attendant trotted over and led him to the nearest parking space.

Although Jack did not install any special equipment on this Audi R8, the hidden police lights and the spare rifle behind the seat clearly make it inappropriate to hand over the car keys to strangers at will.

For Taylor, who has been staying in a small building at the base for security reasons and has been able to taste different cuisines from all over the world every day, the food carefully prepared by the chef of the best French restaurant in Soho tastes just so-so.

Although the main purpose of choosing a French meal with a lengthy serving process of at least 2 hours was to delay time, the soothing music, the flickering candlelight on the table, and a bottle of expensive champagne soon made Taylor completely relaxed.

"I admit that I am very satisfied with this dinner, but don't think about breaking our agreement. The condition you promised before was to cook a delicious meal for me yourself."

Taylor walked out of the restaurant holding Jack's arm, leaning most of his weight on the man.

"Which meal have you eaten these two days was not cooked by me?" Jack was speechless. He raised his hand to check the time. It was almost ten o'clock, which was just right considering the journey time.

Jack's eyes seemed to inadvertently glance at a gray Lavida across the street, and his brows furrowed slightly again.

Most people may not be able to see the appearance of the person sitting in the car under the dim street lights, but this is not a problem for him. The reason why Jack didn't bother with Aubrey for helping him spread false information and turning it into a scandal is because he was right about one thing.

Compared to other news, office gossip does spread the fastest.

No matter how good Jack's memory is, it is impossible for him to call out the name of every FBI agent who has entered and exited the federal building, but even if they have just passed by each other, it will still leave some impression on him.

The guy who was following him turned out to be an FBI insider. Although he hadn't seen these two faces for a while, Jack was still sure that he was not mistaken.

"What's wrong?" Taylor asked curiously, feeling that the man seemed a little absent-minded.

"Nothing, I just didn't expect to have such an unexpected gain." Jack bent down to open the passenger door and gentlemanly stretched out his hand to protect her head.

The abandoned wine cellar where Lai Ya imprisoned his own father is located not far from a pier in Queens. Although it is called a wine cellar, it is not completely underground, but more like a semi-basement.

This place originally belonged to a trading company with a gangster background. Just as Aubrey had said before, there was open space all around, with only a lonely brick and stone bungalow standing there.

It was pitch black all around, and the blockade tape that the NYPD had put up earlier was swaying slightly in the night wind. Jack and Taylor got out of the car and walked around the house, then returned to the front door and bent over to fiddle with something.

The "clattering" sound of the metal rolling door being opened could be heard far away in the silent night. The couple was seen bending down and getting into the rolling door and disappearing. The Lavida, which had not turned on the lights for the second half of the journey, drove slowly over and stopped next to the Audi R8.

Soon after, two GMC vans drove up, one on the left and one on the right, and circled around the house. Several gunmen got out of the vans, armed with assault rifles, and used the vans as cover, ready for battle.

A moment later, with a wave of the hand from a man in a suit who got out of the car first, the headlights of three cars turned on, and the bright white beams of light illuminated the small wine cellar.

"Come out! You're surrounded!" Former FBI agent Craig Bogle shouted triumphantly, covering his wig that was messy in the wind.

There seemed to be a commotion in the house, and then Jack's voice was heard, "Don't get me wrong, I'm the FBI."

"There is no misunderstanding, Agent Jack Tawalla." Craig Bogle fired two shots directly at the half-open rolling door.

His partner Leonard Pitt placed an M203 grenade launcher on the car door, unable to hide his excitement on his face.

“This is just a small warning. Don’t try to resist. We have specially prepared smoke bombs and stun bombs for you. I heard that you are very good at using these things on those criminals.

You didn't expect it, did you? Now it's your turn to experience it yourself. If you don't want the beautiful lady next to you to get hurt, just drop your weapon and come out and surrender."

Two former FBI agents sang the same tune, loudly laughing at the turtle in the jar.

There was silence in the house for a moment, and then Jack's voice came again, "Who are you? I don't know you. What do you want to do?"

(End of this chapter)